


To the Beat of a Different Drum

by ACommonAnomaly (RowanBaines)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Immortality, Loss, Mortality, mentions of earendil and elwing, mentions of maedhros and maglor, momentous life-changing decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15983069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanBaines/pseuds/ACommonAnomaly
Summary: The time has come for Elros to decide which kindred his fate shall be joined with, and under which kindred he shall be judged. Although the choice is a daunting one, he is determined to follow his heart, wherever it leads him.But first he must talk to his brother.





	To the Beat of a Different Drum

* * *

 

Elros felt his brother’s presence behind him, and he let out a trembling sigh.

Anticipating this moment, he had come to stand just outside the camp on an outcropping of broken stone blocks that rose from the earth in a gentle incline, the ruined remains of a watchtower. He had meant to use this vantage point to examine the landscape, but his gaze had inevitably drifted to the sky, to the star that shone with a brilliance familiar to him from his childhood.

Elrond silently picked his way over the uneven stone and stopped next to Elros, angling his body so that he stood almost facing him. He was silent, perhaps waiting for a greeting, but Elros found that he was too anxious to speak first.

Likely sensing this, Elrond saved him the trouble.

“He would have chosen differently, but for Elwing.” Elrond nodded up at the sky. “He would have left beyond our reach again, only this time forever.”

Elros nodded and swallowed past the lump that had risen in his throat at his brother’s somber tone. Eonwë had implied as much when they spoke of the choice their father had made, his bright, fierce eyes gentled by something like pity. Elros was certain that Eonwë had known, had seen in Elros’ eyes what he would choose, even though they had both asked for time to discuss it between themselves.

Elros took a deep breath to settle his nerves. His voice was unwavering, if soft, when he said, “Perhaps he should have followed his own heart, instead of hers.”

Elrond came to stand facing him fully now, edging in front of him, demanding his attention.

“You don’t mean that.” Elrond kept his voice calm, but Elros felt his brother’s very spirit tremble, resisting what was coming. Elrond could not hold his brother’s gaze for long, and he turned his head, shaking it absently. “I would like to believe that we played at least some small part in his decision. Surely he regrets that he took no part in the raising of his own children.”

“This is too important a decision for him to have made for anyone but himself. It is too important a decision for _me_ to make for anyone but myself.”

“Yes, but...if you chose differently...” Elrond seemed to cast about for something solid enough to anchor him, something with which he could anchor Elros as well. “Would you not wish to see our foster fathers again?”

Elros thought of Maedhros and Maglor, and his heart twisted in his chest. “It may be that they are lost to us forever. The thought of remaining here for all the ages of the world, grieving for the loss of them…there are so many things to remind me of them, and yet who can say when we will see them again?”

They’d been told that Maglor had fled, and though Elros longed to seek him out, he knew such a search would be fruitless if his foster father didn’t wish to be found. And Maedhros…Elros had brushed the edges of that one’s grief and had feared it was an abyss which would eventually swallow him up. And it had. Though his connection with Maglor remained something Elros could touch with his awareness, if only lightly, there was nothing but void were Maedhros had been.

His love for Maedhros had been great, but death had severed their familial bond all the same. Elros looked into the distance, where the landscape lay broken by the ravages of so much war, and for a moment the sorrow here seemed to grow into something insurmountable.

Elrond’s tentative voice tore him from his morose thoughts. “What of our mother and father? Do you not think you might wish to see them again one day?”

At Elrond’s renewal of this tactic, Elros gave his brother a sideways look that made him sigh. Elros lifted his eyebrows slightly, but he suppressed a smile and made his expression serious to address his brother’s question.

“Our parents made their choices, just as we must make our own. If it is my desire to choose the path of Men, should I let myself be swayed from that path by the people who made decisions that led them away from me when I was but a child?”

Elrond’s eyes filled with sadness at that. He fell back to stand at his brother’s side again, saying nothing but nodding weakly. He understood.

“I am not angry, and if I feel resentment still, it is tempered by pity,” Elros reassured him. “But I am tired. And if I am tired now, weary from war and loss, imagine how I might feel in the coming ages.”

“You are too young to say such things.”

“You know that’s not true.” Now Elros did smile, letting his mirth reach his eyes as he met his brother’s gaze.

“I suppose you are right. I believe we stopped feeling young some time ago,” Elrond conceded. “But you are being so grim. Although there will be pain and loss in life here, there will also be so much beauty and joy. You must see that.”

“All here must eventually fade. The loss will be great, and when enough time has passed we may become no more than shadows of what we once were. And yet we would still be bound here until the end. Trapped.”

“Is that how you feel? Trapped?” Elrond’s distress burst through that last word, making it sound broken.

Elros gazed up at the night sky, his eyes seeking out the silmaril again. He felt it when Elrond’s eyes settled on that same glimmering spot, a brief churning of emotion passing into him from his brother.

His thoughts drifted to Maglor, and he recalled the first time he and Elrond had spotted the jewel their mother fled with shining in the night sky.

Despite the consequence he was facing if he failed to retrieve it, Maglor had only said of the jewel, _‘Let us be glad; for its glory is seen now by many, and is yet secure from all evil.’_ In that moment, the remarkable kindness that still kindled in Maglor’s wounded spirit, shimmering on through all the darkness in his life, shone brighter to Elros than any star in the sky. It was such a gentle sentiment from someone who, even then, understood that he was fated to fail.

_Let us be glad..._

As a child, Elros had not been glad at the sight of that star. He had been heartbroken.

Elros blinked away the mist clouding his vision and focused again on the present.

He felt Elrond’s eyes on him, and he considered his answer to the question still hanging in the air for a few moments longer before saying, “I wonder…do you think Eärendil feels free soaring through the skies, or do you think he feels trapped? It could be that what at first felt like a great freedom will come to be stifling, that he might long to explore different paths, paths that are now closed to him.”

“Perhaps,” Elrond said.

“In a mortal life-time I might do much good, have a family, and leave a legacy behind me. And then, with my death, my weariness would be lifted, and I would be free to move on to something new.”

Elrond watched him, shaking his head helplessly as if he would interrupt, but Elros did not give him the chance.

“Death feels like a gift. If I had no choice in the matter, it might not feel so, but I do. I know that it is not simply an end, but also a beginning, and I burn with the desire to see what lies beyond all of this.”

“But death is...it is _loss_ for those left behind.” Hurt and frustration laced through Elrond’s voice.

“You need not be left behind,” Elros reminded him. “We could choose the same path.”

Elrond jerked his head in negation. “I cannot, and I think you know it.”

Elros knew it. He had always known his brother’s heart, just as Elrond knew his, but that did not seem to be making things any easier. Elros could see Elrond’s struggle in his eyes, in every movement of his tense body.

After a few long moments of silence, Elrond said, “This...mortality...this is what you think Eärendil wanted, and so now it is what _you_ want. But who can say what is truly in his heart. We never really knew him.”

Elros looked up at the sky again. This was about more than the one who had sired them, and he needed Elrond to understand that. “People may look at our father’s heroism and see ample excuse for him to have left his his wife and his children in the midst of such danger. But to be honest, all of that is irrelevant to me, because he should not have needed to in the first place.”

Elrond looked surprised, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice when he asked, “What do you mean?”

“It was the Valar who released Morgoth, one of their kindred even if they have rejected him now. How many people needlessly suffered and died because the Valar held their need to punish the rebellious Noldor above their responsibility to correct their error in releasing their fallen brother? How many innocent people were tortured, mutilated, murdered? How many families ripped apart, lovers lost, and friends fallen?

“For it was not just the Noldor who suffered under the Curse of Mandos. And while all those who have done wrong in dark times should be held accountable for their choices, I cannot help but think with painful longing how different things might have been had the Valar intervened sooner.”

Even in the dark, Elros could see that Elrond had gone pale.

It was some time before Elrond gathered himself to speak and said softly, “The actions of the Valar are determined by their own understanding of the Music, as alien and strange as that understanding may be to us. They seek to uphold the Music as they know it.”

“And what if I would like to sing a different tune?” Elros quirked his lips.

Elrond laughed weakly and clasped his hands behind his back, staring out into the night with the wide-eyed look of someone whose vision has turned inward.

Elros wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he could see that his brother was processing all that he had said and still needed time. Elrond had surely known in his heart what Elros would decide, but now he must face what would come of that decision.

When the silence grew too heavy, though, Elros could not help but say, “Those who are bound to this world are also bound by its music, their fates constrained by it. It is true...the thought of staying here does make me feel trapped.”

“I do understand,” Elrond said, though the admission seemed to pain him. “But I cannot join you in this. I can do much good here, I feel it.”

Elros felt his heart swell with love for his brother. “I know you can.”

“But that is not what you want for yourself, to take part in the unfolding of events here, in this world.” It was flatly stated, as though Elrond was relaying a message.

“It is not.” Elros was relieved to see that his brother was beginning to accept what must be, and he could not suppress his excitement about his future. Still, he understood that Elrond could not share that excitement, and he longed to offer reassurance of some kind. “It will please me to know that you are still here, and that you will watch out for those who we have come to love. I know that you will find within the bounds of this place a song worth singing.”

“But I will miss you.”

“And I will miss you.” Elros smiled at his brother. “But I do not believe that Eru would have us sundered forever. I cannot believe that is his plan for us, that he would throw people together and then rip them apart, never to be reunited again. The parting may be long, but I do not believe this will be the end for us.”

“I hope you are right.” Elrond looked earnest and yet still solemn. “I confess, I feel no such certainty.”

“If the One means for the end to be good for us, for all hurts to be healed in time, then I shall meet with you and those we have loved again one day. We shall renew our bonds and speak of our adventures, and we will share with each other all the things that we have learned.”

Though he could not seem to bring himself to meet his brother’s eyes, Elrond rested a hand on Elros’ shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I will be very glad on that day,” he said.

“As will I.”


End file.
